


They Don't Know (That I'm In Love)

by nimiumcaelo



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (but only hinted at), 1940s, Fantasizing, M/M, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pining, Pre-Serum Steve Rogers, based on one of my own crushes, bucky's in the army and high-key in love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-06-01 00:28:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15131087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nimiumcaelo/pseuds/nimiumcaelo
Summary: Later, which was even better, he passed by where I was sitting and he said ‘Hi,’ mostly because I caught his eye again. I said ‘Hi’ back, but my voice didn’t do that nice deep-and-gruff thing it usually does around people I want to impress, but it did the squeaky high thing it does when I’m laughing or around my family. Foreshadowing? Maybe. But my goodness if it didn’t feel good.Bucky writes a secret letter to his fellow soldiers.





	They Don't Know (That I'm In Love)

He was there. He was there, and I saw him. I saw him with his blond hair under that cap, only the profile from where I was sitting, and he was playing with some sticks in the dirt. He was so beautiful then and still is to me now. He put the sticks down and turned in my direction—didn’t look over—but I got a glimpse of his handsome face, pale despite the sunshine. His shoulders, oh boy—when I first saw those, I nearly had a conniption. He’s strong, is what he is. And beautiful, let’s not forget beautiful. He’s exceptionally beautiful. I love him. I love him a whole damn lot. And none of you know. See, I spoke about him just like I spoke about the rest of them, those dames. I talked about him like that and you guys were none the wiser. Isn’t that funny? The one actual love I have and you guys can’t put two and two together even when I’m so blatant about it.

I remember the first time I caught his eye. I’d been trying at it for several minutes, but then he turned around and saw me and we caught eyes and then I smiled and he smiled back and I got this sparkly little feeling bursting and blooming like the whole Fourth of July in my chest. I wasn’t wearing my cap on purpose, even though it hurt my eyes to squint like that in the light, because I wanted him to see my eyes. He did. He did, my God, and it was striking. He smiled at me and I mused on it the rest of the day.

Later, which was even better, he passed by where I was sitting and he said ‘Hi,’ mostly because I caught his eye again. I said ‘Hi’ back, but my voice didn’t do that nice deep-and-gruff thing it usually does around people I want to impress, but it did the squeaky high thing it does when I’m laughing or around my family. Foreshadowing? Maybe. But my goodness if it didn’t feel good.

What if I married him? What if we settled down in some other city, far away from his family—because, obviously, they wouldn’t approve—and also far from mine, and I would keep a steady job and he could draw and make the people smile and if he wanted kids, we could have some, but if he didn’t we wouldn’t need to and we would volunteer in the local community and have fun and I would take him to movies and kiss him on the cheek and then he would smile at me and I could put my arm around him or he could put his arm around me and we would be together and it would be beautiful. What if?

(Also, in case you thickheads couldn’t tell, I’m writing about Steve, that beautiful, gorgeous, amazing man.)

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!  
> Hit me up with prompts/requests [here](https://ask.fm/nimiumcaelo).


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